The undoing

I don’t remember what day it was or the month. I just remember that, that morning like every other hadn’t gone well. I was exhausted, the kids didn’t want to get up, the baby didn’t want to wear pants and like every morning, we were late. I practically flew to daycare and unloaded the kids as fast as I could. Already late and internally freaking out about what my boss was going to say, “ third time this week Amanda.” I frantically threw my car into reverse and within seconds realized something was wrong. A crunching noise that I couldn’t identify, but inherently knew wasn’t good. I slammed on my brakes and hopped out, scurrying to the back of my car only to discover that I had backed directly into my daycare’s neighbors mailbox. Mailbox on the ground and my taillight shattered. Something in me broke, the thing that had been with me since childhood telling me to keep it together, you can’t afford to fall apart. The tears came, faster and faster and hotter and hotter. Drying out my face and making my eyes puffy. What was my husband going to say? This is now something else he has to fix, something else we need to pay to fix. My blouse is soaked with tears, the voices come. “Your failing at everything, you need to get it together.” My 45 minute drive to work is punctuated by sobs as I choke back the feelings of failure and inadequacy. Suddenly the fear comes over me. What if the neighbor has cameras? What if they see me taking out their mailbox and decide to sue? I began questioning if I really could balance it all. If maybe I was not cut out to be a working mom. Looking back, I realize this is the moment I had been avoiding. Is this burnout?